And yet…
Until the Crown was secure, he wouldn’t dare drag her into the world of conspiracy that he faced on a daily basis. Danger was his constant companion and he knew he would regret it if something happened to Miss Lindquist because of his negligence. They had just met, but it didn’t matter. There was something compelling about her that he knew would be difficult to ignore. He had the feeling they would be intertwined for the rest of his life.
He forced his attention to the stew, and they ate in companionable silence for the rest of the meal. When he finally set his spoon down, he inclined his head. “Very well done, Miss Lindquist. I commend your culinary skills.”
He glanced at her and she lifted a mocking brow. “I assume that means I am to attempt something just as spectacular tomorrow?”
As much as he didn’t want to play this next hand, he knew it was necessary to learn how innocent she was—or wasn’t. The individual he was looking for who might cause further strife in London was someone from the continent. He was intelligent enough not to take anyone for granted, be they male or female. For centuries, the fairer sex had been used as effective weapons in war. While they had not reached that point in the unrest as yet, Harlan wasn’t taking any chances. The best way to do that was to release her earlier anger. He'd learned it was the fastest way for an opponent to lose their composure and offer something imperative.
Threading his hands together in front of him, he said, “That won’t be necessary. I’m quite capable of preparing my own meals.”
As suspected, he saw her complexion brighten to a deep rose. Her spoon clattered to the table as her hands clenched at her sides. Her amber eyes narrowed with malicious intent. “Are you saying that this was nothing more than a ruse to see how far you might torment me?”
He shrugged. “You were not injured as far as I can tell, and we both enjoyed a lovely meal together. I considered it as a fitting punishment for trying to escape.”
Her mouth went slack, and then she stood up from her chair so abruptly that it fell to the floor with a clatter. “You, sir, are no gentleman to deceive a lady in such a manner.”
He calmly wiped his mouth with the serviette. “I can see you have been on the continent for far too long if you believe that times have changed so dramatically in England.”
“Indeed,” she huffed. “But now that a woman leads the country, perhaps things will change for the better. It certainly can’t be any worse with men like you left in charge.”
She turned and started to leave the room, but Harlan wasn’t finished with her yet.
As her enticing derriere headed down the hall toward the bedchamber that he used to claim as his own, he couldn’t resist goading her further, “Are you planning to sleep in that gown all night?”
She stopped. The stiff set of her shoulders heralded her slow pivot back to him. “It’s not as though I can retrieve my belongings which are halfway to Birmingham by now.”
“As to that…” He glanced over at the parlor. “I should be a very poor highwayman if I didn’t procure something of use. It’s not just jewels and coin that I’m after.” As he said that, he couldn’t help but allow his gaze to travel slowly up and down her form.
She returned to him and offered him a deadly glare as she moved over and retrieved her valise. Walking directly back to him, she stood toe-to-toe with him and uttered, “I can’t believe I allowed myself a moment of weakness to dare to believe that you might have any sort of honor left within you. I can see now that you have nothing but a black heart and ice in your veins.”
He smiled tightly, more wounded than he would have let on. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell her his true purpose for donning this mask.
At that moment, a knock at the door saved him from any sharp retort he might have made now and regretted later. “Ah. It would appear that I am saved any further reply by a timely intervention. Sleep well, Miss Lindquist.”
With a huff, she stalked off, slamming the door of the bedchamber just as Harlan walked over and admitted Hugh into the cottage. His friend lifted a brow and offered a slight wince. “I can see things haven’t improved between you.” In possession of the scent of a bloodhound when it came to food, he added, “I daresay there is a tantalizing aroma coming from the kitchen.”
“Help yourself.” Harlan waved a hand. As his fellow comrade moved away, Harlan walked into the parlor and sank down heavily on the settee. He ripped the mask from his face and tossed it aside as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had never hated the thing so much as he did now, because it reminded him of his vow, the duty that weighed heavily around his shoulders, and made a woman like Miss Lindquist absolutely despise him.
“This is quite good.”
Harlan offered a side glance to Hugh as he returned from the kitchen. His mask had also been discarded, and his red hair seemed more prominent in the waning light of dusk.
Harlan remained silent as his comrade consumed the fare with gusto. Once he had finished, he gave a delighted sigh. “I adore Marie’s talents, but I have to admit Miss Lindquist is a close second.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Harlan muttered. “It will be the last time you shall enjoy anything by the lady.”
Hugh dared to seem annoyed by this fact. “Why couldn’t you have refrained from ruffling her feathers and offered her some spark of gratitude?”
“I did,” he countered. “However, I remembered that she might be a traitor, and I have a job to do. I cannot allow my conscience to override any empathy I might feel for her. I regret that your stomach doesn’t agree.”
“Indeed,” Hugh returned flatly. “It shall be quite a long summer ahead if I have to suffer much more of your former housekeeper’s meals. I should warn you that the rest of the men were looking forward to a change from Mrs. Gwynn.”
Harlan’s patience was growing thin. “And I shall have to remind them that I cannot procure a fine French chef just to suit their needs when we meet to discuss our current ventures.”
Hugh’s mouth descended into a grim line. “You’ve become quite a curmudgeon in your later years.”
“I am nine and twenty,” Harlan pointed out with a speaking glance. “Not in my dotage by any standard.”
